


Permission

by RapidashPatronus



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Awkward First Times, F/M, First Time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-25
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-18 04:27:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28986369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RapidashPatronus/pseuds/RapidashPatronus
Summary: Cassian and Jyn navigate the awkwardness of a first time
Relationships: Cassian Andor/Jyn Erso
Comments: 26
Kudos: 58
Collections: The RebelCaptain Network Secret Santa Exchange





	Permission

**Author's Note:**

  * For [for_centuries](https://archiveofourown.org/users/for_centuries/gifts).



> Well this is certainly an awkward first time for me too! I've never written smut before but I figured if we were going for awkward first times I was in with a fighting chance :P This is a present for for_centuries after your Rebelcaptain Secret Santa didn't come through with the goods - hope they're ok and I hope this replacement was worth the wait! The prompt was "making up after an argument / awkward virgins". Thanks to Yavemiel and EmbleGiraffe for their constructive reading and really helpful comments.

A soft, pale cloth and a small brush. The click of metal, the smell of oil. The cold, solid weight of the blaster in his hands. Holding it wasn’t something Cassian liked. Using it wasn’t something he liked either. Not that he allowed himself to dislike it either; that didn’t really bear thinking about too much, too often.

But cleaning it, he liked. The method of it was a meditation: it steadied his hands, his mind, when they needed steadying.

Cassian was sitting on the side of a soft bed in a large room with an expansive viewport - an entire wall, really - that looked out across the Plain. The room was ridiculous. Ever since “the Rebellion” had ceased being “the Rebellion” and had become… whatever this was - the Winners… there’d been a bit more glitz and fanfare to things. We must give shiny things and nice rooms to our heroes. Suites to the sweet.

That was, he supposed, how politics worked: decorate your heroes, celebrate your heroes, make the show of how _grateful_ you are to your heroes as you send them back out - perhaps to die, but Heroically. Winning wasn’t a one-time thing; this was a galaxy, after all, not a city or a planet or even a system, and so there were loose ends to tie up.

Cassian Andor was always good with loose ends.

The Plain was, in fairness, lovely. This planet’s star was small and feeble, barely of a size even to hold the planet in orbit, but just about. Thanks to a quirk of the planet’s rotation and this base’s location on the surface, the star sparkled on the horizon at all times, never quite setting, never quite rising. It glittered across the blue dust of the Plain, catching in the spars of crystals that rose up like desert plants and throwing long flashes of shattered, multicoloured light across the dust behind them where the shadows should have been. Cassian wiped the blaster one more time, sweeping the last of the oil away, and watched as the barrel lit up with the same orange and pink light that he knew caught the edges of his own face too. A symphony of colour for a weapon; whether that was the blaster or himself, he wasn’t sure.

He reassembled the blaster efficiently and laid it into his bag. He was ready to go in the morning. He’d know it was morning from the angles of the light-shadows reaching back from the crystal spars. Right now he was facing the star directly, the long, glittering fingers of coloured light reaching out directly toward him. By the time they’d swung round and pointed hard left, it would be - what they called here anyway - morning.

There wasn’t a whole lot to do till then. Often the way. 

He should sleep. He wouldn’t.

The trails of light inched, grain by grain, sideways across the Plain.

\--

“Are you fucking insane?” Jyn spat. “You’re going?”

“Who -?”

“Were you going to tell me?”

She’d cornered him in a bend in the cloister some way between the first and second hangars. She’d sprinted across the blue-blooming quad from the other side and slammed him to the wall before he’d had a chance to really prepare for the onslaught.

“I was just coming to find you,” he began. “Who -?”

“Is that why you didn’t want me there? So you could -”

“That wasn’t my decision, you know you’re -” he didn’t catch what she was saying at the same time. “Jyn, can we not -”

“So you’re just going to keep on giving?” Her green eyes blazed up at him, her fists tightening around the part of his jacket they had seized on. “Is that it? Till nothing’s left?”

“Jyn,” he tried again, but she shook him back against the wall again.

“What even are you, Cassian?” she asked him in a low, rasping voice. “What is - do you actually have any sense of anything that’s not... _this_ ? What’s actually in” - she loosed her grip with one hand and jabbed instead at his forehead - “ _there_?”

He grabbed her hand and twisted it away from his face, feeling his jaw setting, his blood rising. People passing were trying not to look. “We’ve talked about this before,” he hissed. “You know where I stand.”

“I thought I did,” she returned hotly, snatching her wrist free. “But now you -”

Over on the other side of the quad, their raised voices met the aural sensors of a golden protocol droid.

“Oh dear, Artoo,” he said in a clipped, anxious voice, as the argument raged on. “This looks like it might take a while.”

The stumpy astromech beside him trilled a short series of beeps and whistles.

“No, I don’t think it _was_ a good idea to tell her. This is all your fault.”

The whistle that came in response sounded unconvinced by this accusation.

\--

They _had_ talked about it - quietly, in private: what came first, the cause, what mattered, altruism, habit, the galaxy - he’d thought it was settled.

He was still all but motionless, facing the window, but his hand tightened on the sheet beside him, bunching the smooth fabric in his fist. He shouldn’t have expected her to understand. He’d never promised anything he couldn’t give. He’d thought she knew about not making plans. He hadn’t expected that to have changed.

Well, at least he wasn’t leaving anything behind, now.

A sharp buzz came from the intercom by the door some way behind him. There was a pause. Then - “Cassian.”

Jyn. Her voice, even crackling electronically through the speaker, was low and shaky. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, but didn’t move.

“Cassian?” Something strange and high-pitched, strangled even, in the sound of it.

He didn’t have time to reflect on it; how always, always, he went to her; how there was something about Jyn that always pulled him back, no matter what; how nothing held him back from her when she needed him; he was already at the door and pressing the button to slide it open to reveal her, small and bright and desolate and tentative, he was already pulling her to him, feeling her wet face through his shirt as she broke against him - _I’m sorry - I’m sorry - I’m sorry._

“It’s ok, it’s ok,” he muttered into the top of her head. “It’s ok, it’s ok.”

There was a warning note from the doorway as the door prepared to slide shut again.

“Come in,” he said, and half-lifted her against his chest across the threshold just as the door hissed slowly back into place.

Ridiculously, Jyn giggled. She pulled her face away from his chest and looked up at him with a weak, watery smile. “Imagine us just having this big moment and the door cuts us in half, just - _sswip_ , oops, what a mess.”

He laughed back, in spite of himself. “I don’t think it does that,” he said.

“I know. Still.”

He still wasn’t sure where this was going. Was she here to convince, persuade?

She broke away and looked around the dim room vaguely. She didn’t seem entirely sure herself what came next, either.

“I’ll put the light on,” he said, moving off.

“No, it’s fine,” she said.

Cassian stopped on his way to the control pad, hand in mid-air, unsure what to do. He looked back at her, edged with pink from the window: his everything. His _almost_ everything.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

It wasn’t the first time. They’d rested safely in their love from the moment they found they were still alive - unspoken at first, but always spoken, steady, warm and unquestioned; they had become one another’s habit and home. It was a serene love of besideness, of being tethered. And they’d told one another they loved each other as fact, as a pointless observation, like commenting on the weather, something they both knew.

This time, though, for the first time, it came like a reassurance.

Jyn swung her arms around aimlessly for a moment in the silence. Then - “I know I come second to you, Cassian. I’ve -” she held up a hand to cut off his protestation. “I’ve always known that. I just - how far down are _you_ on your list?”

She wandered awkwardly away and sat on the bed with her back to him, staring out of the absurd viewport.

“I can’t think like that,” he murmured.

“It’s not absolution, you know,” she told him. “You do know that?”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know,” she sighed, and fell backwards onto the bed with her hands in her hair, searching for words. The shape of her was lovely. “I’m... you’re never going to feel good about some of the things you’ve done. I know. Believe me, I _know_. You can’t… earn it.”

“I know,” he said. He was still standing, useless and hesitant, halfway between the fresher and the light control. “But it needs doing.”

“By you?”

Cassian rubbed his eyes and finally moved. He walked around the bed to sit next to where she lay, and gazed blankly at the star and the shadows. His hand found hers.

“You don’t know who you are without this,” Jyn said gently.

“Neither do you,” he said. “You haven’t met him any more than I have. Do you love me, or him?”

Her hand twitched; almost a flinch. A beat.

“That’s not fair.”

“No,” he admitted, but didn’t say anything else.

He felt, rather than saw, her chest rise and fall beside him as she tried to arrange her thoughts. Then -

“I can’t lose you, too.”

He sighed as he fell back to lie beside her and she turned her face to his. The streaked light cast peculiar shadows over her expression. He slid a hand up and trailed a finger along her cheekbone. Her silly, stubborn, beautiful face.

“What do you want me to do?” he asked her, and he meant it.

Jyn reached up to hold his hand against her face, and moved her head forward till her soft lips met the corner of his mouth. Cassian closed his eyes.

“Come home safely,” she murmured against the side of his mouth, then turned her head and kissed him.

Permission.

He let out his breath - hadn’t realised he’d been holding it - and gathered her in, opened his mouth to her, treasuring the soft, wet, warmth of hers, committing to memory how her tongue felt against his, that familiar, sweet tenderness, the movement of her lips. She turned onto her side toward him, letting go of his hand against her face to smooth her fingers softly over his hair.

He lost himself in the sensations: the deep, close brushing sound as her hand passed his ear; the clicking wetness of their mouths together; the warmth of her breath; the salty flavour of dried tears; the soft, solid form of her body alongside his; the fleeing lightheadedness as his blood moved downward and he began to stir and swell.

The kiss deepened and Jyn pressed herself closer against him, let out a pleased sound into his own gasp as she moved her hips against his hardness. This, too, was not new.

Cassian wrapped his arm around her back as if to pull her even closer, and she lifted her leg over him, turning, moving on top of him. He brought his hands to her hips. Suddenly, she broke the kiss and pulled back, breathless. Her expression was uncertain.

“I’m… if you, um.” She gave a short laugh. “Can we..?”

Now _this_ was new. He held back a “ _gods, yes”_ and went instead for: “Are you sure?”

She coloured further. “Only if -”

“Gods, yes.” Well, there was only so much restraint in the galaxy. But as he drew her back down and kissed her again, his mind began to whirl. He loved her, of course. He wanted her, of _course_. But this wasn’t just new for them; it was new for him. He’d never had - well he’d had the chance. But not so much the time, or the mental space, or the good conscience, or the self-worth, or any of those things beyond the purely mechanical that transformed desire to meaningful action. And -

Jyn broke away again. Again, that self-deprecating laugh from before. “Can I use your shower?”

He laughed too and stroked her cheek. “If you like.”

She grinned and snatched a kiss on the tip of his nose. “I think it’d be better.”

“I’ve just had one,” he said, because he wasn’t really sure what else to say.

She clambered off him and trotted back around the bed away from him toward the fresher. It was an oddly functional sort of break in proceedings, he reflected as she vanished, and wondered what he was meant to do now.

Cassian was instantly sure that just getting undressed and lying around naked to salute her languidly with his erection when she got back was extremely seedy.

That said, welcoming her, damp and nubile, back to his bed while he was still fully-clothed had an equally nasty flavour of something faintly proprietorial. She wasn’t a concubine; she was the love of his life, however long that life might get to be.

Was he overthinking this? He was probably overthinking this. He glanced down: he was definitely overthinking this. Shit.

The thing about Captain Cassian Andor was this: he was extremely effective at deception, covert operations, intuition, leadership, persuasion and quick thinking. He was not, however, entirely convinced he had learnt how to behave in a way that was entirely himself, rather than whatever was most beneficial for a mission’s goal. If he had been required for some supposedly-noble reason to seduce someone, he assumed he’d probably have known exactly what to do, though it would have come at the cost of folding something very quickly and tidily into a box into the back of his mind and never opening that box again. But when he most wanted to be plain, and honest, and just… himself… he found himself a little lost.

That self-conviction and total lack of guile was what he found most beautiful about Jyn.

He decided it would be a good in-between point if he could be folding his clothes when she came back in. It wasn’t the height of romance, but then, she’d gone for a shower just when things had been hotting up, so maybe they were just straight into the kind of practical, efficient kind of loving that he assumed married couples had. He wasn’t averse to that idea. The thought of something as warm and comfortable as a life of routine - a life of routine with Jyn, no less - was actually one he treasured like a tiny silver bird in his hands: beautiful, fragile, impossible.

He was folding his clothes when she came back in. He heard the fresher door slide open and she emerged, naked, her hands out in a gesture of humorous self-presentation and Cassian had two thoughts at the same time:

Number one: she was self-conscious;

Number two: she was the most beautiful sight he had ever seen.

He needn’t have worried about the effect of overthinking as he felt himself rising again with every step he took towards her and it was only a fraction of a moment till he had his arms around her.

The shape of Jyn was a shape he knew, but the smooth, warm surface of her skin under his hands, and the soft press of her breasts just above his stomach, the faint scratch of her pubic hair against his leg, were sweet new notes.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured down onto the top of her head. “You’re so beautiful, look at you.”

She huffed a half-laugh into his shoulder and kissed where it landed, sliding a hand against the ridges of his back. “Says you,” she said.

“I haven’t done this before,” he told her. It felt important she knew that.

Jyn looked up at him in surprise. “Oh,” she said. “Oh, neither have I!”

Cassian recalibrated for a second. “That’s nice.”

 _Oh, excellent!_ He’d meant it was nice they could share something new together, nice they had no expectations, nice a hundred things but not “That’s nice.”

But she laughed again and he laughed too and she said, “Yes, dear, very nice,” and he laughed some more and this was already so much better than he thought it could ever be. And maybe one day this would be all there was for him.

Jyn slipped away from him and made her way to the bed, but stopped at the viewport and and gazed out.

“It’s eroded cobalt deposits,” she said. “And copper sulphate.”

“Yeah?” She was nervous, he realised. Alright, no rush. He didn’t serve at the whim of his penis, insistent and hot as it might be. Jyn was worth time, was worth as much of it as he had.

“Yeah, it’s acidic, it’s why the flowers in the quad are blue.”

Cassian joined her, slipping his arms around her from behind. It had the effect of pressing his erection against her back, but it wasn’t his intention and she didn’t react. “Geologist’s daughter,” he accused her lightly, and again kissed the top of her head. It felt exposed in a pleasing, liberated way, to stand together like this, tiny and naked before the broad blue vista.

She reached up with one hand and untwisted her bun; her hair tumbled out onto her shoulders and against his chest.

“I just remember things,” she said.

“I love it,” he told her, and she turned round in his arms to face him. “I love you,” he went on.

Jyn - _his_ Jyn, pink-lit and perfect - dropped her head and kissed his chest slowly and open-mouthed. “I love you,” she answered against his skin.

He exhaled and let his head fall back and as her mouth continued to work softly against his chest and up to his throat, until he finally became aware that his legs were likely to give way any minute. He took a step back and sat on the bed, drawing her with him.

Jyn sat next to him and then scrambled further up the bed and half-sat, half-lay against the pillow, reaching for him. Instead, he leant sideways and kissed the side of her outstretched leg, just by her knee. She breathed a little “oh” and fell backwards.

He turned fully, then, and moved further up the bed, kissing reverently on the way her hip, the inside of her elbow, her shoulder, finally nuzzling under her ear. He felt her fingers push up into his hair at the base of his neck and he, in turn, slid a hand up her side, then hovered.

“May I?” he asked in a low voice. She answered by chuckling breathlessly at the ceiling and putting hand on his, moving it to her breast. It felt small and full and perfect under his palm.

Cassian turned and looked down at their two bodies lying alongside and overlapping each other in the half light, at the curls of hair between her legs, the shallow rise and fall of her stomach,a dark, hard scar just to the left of her navel - a stab wound, it looked like - the dark, hard nipple by his thumb. He moved his thumb and brushed over it, bringing forth another small “oh”. He shifted and moved over her, keenly aware as he knocked against her leg, and kissed her lips again before he lowered himself to mouth at her throat, down to her chest, and then, ecstatically, her other breast.

He glanced up; her eyes were closed and her mouth open, losing herself in his touch. After a while though, she gave another faint laugh and guided his hand away from her nipple.

“It’s a bit-“

“Too much?”

“A bit.”

“Sorry!”

“No, no, it’s-“

“No, I mean - Thanks for telling me.”

She grinned down at him and stroked his face. “What about you? Are you doing alright?”

It was a very good question and depended what she meant. He was definitely extremely happy and very much in love. He was also more aroused than he’d ever been in his life and not sure how much longer he was going to last before he - a thought struck him and he knelt up.

“Jyn, I haven’t got - do you - I don’t have anything to…”

She sat up too, blinking. “Oh.” It wasn’t the nice, breathless sort of “oh” that he’d been enjoying before.

“We can - there’s plenty else we can do,” he said, feeling incredibly stupid for blushing as he spoke, as if he hadn’t just been sucking one of her nipples with his erection pressed against her leg.

Jyn looked embarrassed too. “I’m sorry, I… if you want to, I can, there’s probably -“

She was about to offer to go for something in the morning and he knew it, and he knew she was trying to be kind, and that was not how he wanted this to go.

“No, really,” he told her. “And then - when I come back, we can do the rest, ok? When I come back.”

“When you come back.”

She leant forward and kissed him again, then looked down and said, “So in that case, can I..?”

Her hands were resting on the tops of his thighs. He slumped forward to rest his head on her shoulder. “Please.”

She kissed his neck. “Tell me if I’m doing it wrong.”

He laughed at the ludicrousness of the idea, as if she could do anything at all that he would not want, when all he wanted was her touch.

He leapt and almost head butted her when her fingers wrapped softly around him.

“Is that-?”

“No, keep going, I just -“ he swallowed. “Hold on.”

He shuffled around and lay down. Already his breathing was ragged but he wanted to hold on, to feel this wonderful thing she was giving him for as long as he could. Jyn stretched beside him, propped up on one elbow, smiling down at him. She kissed his cheekbone, the corner of his eye, his temple, and started again.

He closed his eyes. It wasn’t like he’d never touched himself; but Jyn’s slender, battered hand stroking gently and slowly along his length was a new plane of sensation. He was so hard it was almost painful now, but deliriously so. He made a sound, he thought, but he wasn’t sure.

“Do you need me to go faster?” came her voice as if from miles away.

“No, no,” he said thickly. “No, I can’t… I want to…”

He felt her lips on his cheek again and then her voice very close at his ear. “Would you mind if I try with my mouth?”

It almost tipped him over the edge, just her saying it. He definitely made a sound this time, no mistaking it, a blissful groan, and then he dragged himself back into himself enough to say, “Are you sure?”

“I’d like to, unless -“ 

His eyes closed again and she must have read his wordless smile because she stopped talking. There was a shifting of weight and he felt the parts of her that were pressed against him lift and move away, then her hands pulling gently at his legs. He parted them, helpless, and prised his eyes open in time to see her settle kneeling between them.

He noticed her breasts hanging long as she leant forward and then -

_Oh Force, gods, everything -_

He fell back. If her hand had been another plane, this was another whole dimension. That warm, sweet wetness of her mouth that he so loved to kiss was closed in one go over the head of his hardness, without any buildup or warning. Her enthusiasm was gold standard, for one thing, and he wasn’t about to criticise, not when her tongue was circling him and he felt himself vanishing into the wet cave of her mouth.

He was definitely moaning now, and she was huffing grunts of enjoyment out of her nose, bobbing inexpertly but deliciously up and down, but then she tautened and pulled back suddenly, coughing.

“Too far,” she hacked apologetically. “Sorry!”

He was barely able to gesture a response, only grabbed her hand and gripped it tightly. She waited for a moment to be sure her coughing had subsided, then her other hand slid to the base of his shaft as she dipped her head back again and he dared to look down.

Jyn Erso, with her wide, rebellious eyes gazing earnestly up at him from behind zigzag brown hair and her lips wrapped around his penis.

The sight was like an electric shock. It was like everything rushed together into his centre, his sight and hearing were fleeing to the same place too, everything racing toward her perfect, round, wet mouth, gathering and focusing around -

“Jyn, I’m-“ he managed to gasp hoarsely, and then he blanked, and everything went first white, then supernova.

He finally caught his breath and squeezed her hand. He felt her body slide up his, smelt the pungent and salty scent of his ejaculate on her breath. He reached up and brought her head around for a kiss.

She tasted of him. It felt both utterly natural and utterly erotic to kiss her this way. He wondered if his muscles would ever return to full function or if he would feel like plasma forever. He didn’t really mind if he did.

“How are you doing?” she asked him eventually, her head on his shoulder, fingers tracing an infinity loop on his chest.

He smiled up at the ceiling and stroked her hair. “Really, really good,” he told her. “More to the point, what about you?”

He felt her smile, in turn, widen against his skin. “No rush, my love,” she said. “I’m having a lovely time.”

“Still,” he said, and ran his hand down her side, savouring the dip and rise of her under his palm. “I’d like to.”

She heaved a contented “hmmmmm” and turned onto her back. “I’d like that.”

“I hope so,” he chuckled. “Reserve judgement.”

Cassian knelt up and looked at her, stretched out alongside him. He noticed a twitch in her arm as she resisted covering herself, and her cheeks bloomed a little pinker in the dimness. 

“What?” she asked him archly, and raised her arms to rest above her head. Defying her instincts.

“Just admiring,” he told her. “You’re beautiful. This -” he gestured along the length of her - “you, everything, just… beautiful.”

She really _was_ beautiful. There was something movingly simple and plain about how her breasts fell sideways, leaving a flat space across her chest; the small patches of hair under her arms; the pinpricks of cool on her forearms; her navel pulled into a line as she lay stretched before him.

His first kiss to her stomach drew a shivering, nervous-sounding giggle. He looked up.

“Are you sure?” he asked again.

“Oh yes,” she gasped upwards. “Yes, definitely.”

Her involuntary squirming continued as he traced his way gently downwards. Truly, he actually wanted to just bury his face between her legs, but he had the feeling these things were meant to be done gradually. He moved around and she parted her legs for him to settle between. The scent was exquisite. He placed a kiss on her pubic bone, enjoying the feel of his beard against her hair, then, sliding his hands under her legs and up her sides, turned his attention to her inner thighs, holding her steady against her shivering and listening closely to her helpless, cackling laughs.

Her hair was twisted and slick with arousal; finally, he gave in and swiped his tongue deeply upwards along her opening.

She shrieked and kicked his back, writhing away.

“Was that bad?”

Jyn was in hysterics with her hands over her face. “I wasn’t prepared! I just - I’m sorry, I - did I kick you?”

“Are you ok?”

“Are YOU?”

Finally, she assured him it was good, it was fine, it was lovely, and rather more tentatively, he dipped his head again.

She still wriggled and laughed, but her breath caught as she did so and the sounds she made were as intoxicating as the taste and the warmth of her. He felt like he could do this forever, just enjoy losing himself in her, but it seemed barely moments before her gasps became more high pitched; she stiffened and shook, her hands burying themselves in his hair. He looked up along her body to marvel at her face lost in bliss, and then, as she fell limp, placed one last delicate kiss and slid back up to meet her.

Almost blindly, she drew him in for a kiss; her tongue was cold with panting. She wrapped both arms and legs around him and lay silently with her face buried in his shoulder until the trembling passed.

There was so little time, always so little time for them. But there was still some.

The star moved around by degrees, swinging the scattered light behind the crystal spars further to the side, as Cassian and Jyn explored each other newly.

It wasn’t perfect - but oh, it was perfect. Among the coy giggles and apologies was that same serenity and security they had built together like a fortress.

Cassian, eventually, looked again out of the viewport. Jyn’s hands were stroking his hair softly.

“It’s time,” she said for him.

He sighed and reached for her hand. Maybe this was something he could give it all up for.

But he knew that wasn’t really him. She knew it too.

“I promise I’ll be back,” he told her.

She squeezed his hand. “I know.”

**Author's Note:**

> If you're wondering why I used the formal words for so many things instead of the more common slang... it was a choice and one I wrangled over for ages but slang just didn't feel right. It felt too casual and matter-of-fact, and the point of this is that it's definitely quite awkward but also I don't feel like Jyn and Cassian are at a point where they would be matter-of-fact about sex. It's all very conscious and intended and self-aware. That's what I was going for anyway!  
> Oh also - regarding use of the F-bomb... there just isn't an in-universe intensifier that cuts the mustard, sorry. "Kriffing" just doesn't carry that weight, does it!


End file.
